Page 22 of Cream and Punishment
I hadn’t discussed much of my shameful role in ruining Max’s life with the girls, nor how much he hated me. Lex knew all about it, but there were some things you share with your sister that you don’t with anyone else. Sister code had a higher level of honor than simple girl code.
But, it wasn’t like it was a super deep secret. Maybe I could convince them of my plight, unlike I’d been able to do with Lex.
“All right, deal. But you go first because I don’t trust you not to weasel out of it somehow.”
“As well you shouldn’t.” Hattie took a long draw from her drink, drawing out the silence to increase the suspense like any good drama teacher would know how to do. “Jonas and I were in drama club together in high school.”
My jaw dropped before I could snap it closed again. “McBridewas in drama club?”
It was an out of body experience, learning that the hardcore FBI guy had once been a theatre kid. How he and Hattie had chosen such different paths in life, only to run into each other again thirty-some-odd years later was a mystery I vowed to solve.
Hattie nodded, eyes twinkling with mischief. “He wasn’t just in the drama club. He was the lead for the school musical two years in a row.”
“McBridesings?” And here I thought it couldn’t get stranger.
“Oh yeah. I don’t know about now, but back in the day, he had the loveliest baritone.” She sighed dreamily, taking another sip of her drink. “And quite the range, too. That’s how he got the lead so often when everything is written for a tenor.”
“So you two just knew each other because he was in the musical?” Kris asked.
“You could say that.”
I narrowed my eyes at Hattie, jabbing a fry in her direction. “But what doyousay?”
She shrugged, her silver halo of curls swaying. Her eyes stayed glued on her drink, which was highly unusual for such a bold, unfiltered woman. “We were romantic leads with each other for a few musicals.”
That could explain a little bit about McBride’s fondness for her, but not everything. Unless it had been more than just acting.
I cocked my head to the side, savoring the last of my fries. “Did you two date outside the musical?”
I could never tell when or if Hattie blushed, but I could’ve sworn she was doing so now. It was only a glimpse before she cleared her throat and straightened her shoulders, regaining control of the story.
“A little. But we went our separate ways after we graduated and haven’t spoken much in years before now.” She zeroed in on me, evidently done sharing. “Now, Dekker, why were you wrapping a scarf around your head and wearing sunglasses indoors at the squad Christmas party? It was Lex’s engagement party, too, yet you ducked out ten minutes into it.”
I had so many questions for her. Why did it fizzle out? Who did the fizzling? Did that mean her feelings had fizzled out, too? Because by the looks of the two of them together, I didn’t think anything was completely fizzled. And if she still had feelings for McBride, what was stopping her from pursuing them? They were both single as far as I knew between our girls’ night discussions and hearing Lex lament the same thing.
But those would have to wait for another time. Now, I had to share my sad tale of woe. “I didn’t realize that someone at the party was going to be there, and I kind of ruined his life and he hates my guts.”
Wrapping my scarf around my head and wearing sunglasses inside the event room at the bowling alley to disguise myself in front of Max hadn’t been my finest moment. But, considering the situations he’d seen me in since, it really wasn’t that bad. Trying to see had been a nightmare, but thankfully Lex and Colt were the main event, and I could just blend into the background. Until Max had started making his way over toward where I sat talking with another agent’s wife. At that point, I excused myself for the rest of the party. And maybe I ran into a chair on my way out since I couldn’t see well. I’ll never say.
I took a deep breath and let the memories that had been tormenting me for the past year play uninterrupted behind my eyes.
eight
“Picturethis,”Ibegan,spreading my hands as if they were the curtains parting for the cringiest play in existence. “A fancy-pants bakery whose owner has the most unfortunate initials in existence, yet she insists on going by her full name whenever possible.”
Priscilla Odette Olson-Prescott, to be exact. Even now, I could see her face in my mind’s eye, her nose perpetually upturned and eyes squinting judgmentally as she took the opportunity to say “superb” and “dreadfully” as often as possible.
No, seriously. I stopped counting after sixteen “superbs.”
“And there I am, having just finished interviewing for a job,” I continued. “I’m in a skirt and flats—not at all dressed for baking, mind you—and she informs me that I’ll be running a cake tasting as the” —I made air quotation marks with my fingers— “last part of your interview.”
“Are you serious?” Kris asked, her eyes bugging at the audacity. Which was fair. “Without even hiring you?”
Annie scowled. “Isn’t that illegal?”
I shrugged. “Beats me. In retrospect, I should’ve fled then and there. But I really needed a job, and I could run a cake tasting in my sleep.”
That hadn’t stopped me from pacing the length of her lobby or vowing to let the next person to come through the door take whatever they wanted for free. Whether or not I would’ve followed through on that threat was irrelevant.
